Brighter Than My Porch Light

The Depths of Hell and Back

So, the big day came...

"I'm sorry I'm late," Seulgi said in her lowest voice.

She's not wearing my gifted perfume this time, and the pain is otherworldly.

We decided to order appetizers and the main course promptly. Everything is so heartbreakingly awkward; I cannot fathom it.

We're like in a formal meeting, hands clasped, sitting stiffly with wandering minds. The chatter and loud music around us filled the dead air between our conversation.

"You didn't even give me the opportunity to think. You just vanished," I said calmly. I tried to examine her reaction, but she's looking down, bowing too much.

"Because you're not responsible for my feelings," she blurted.

We chose a booth seat in the corner of the restaurant for more privacy and coziness. We talked calmly, like civilized adults who are lost in the depths of our pain. Seulgi dodges some of my questions, but her face betrays her true emotions.

"I wanted to see if there's even the slightest chance that you might want to be with me, and I know if I don't hurry, I might lose the chance to tell you at all," she opens up, looking defeated and having lost all hope. We're blinking rapidly, and we both know why.

Then she continued,

"So, I panicked for days, losing sleep because you're already with somebody else. I missed that window. And when I saw you backstage... I couldn't control myself, I had to show how I feel."

She inhaled courage and exhaled the pain. I could feel her genuine intention as she chugged her whole glass of water. There's a lump in my throat when I suppress tears, and chugging water isn't helping me right now.

"But you didn't let me process things first; you just went to Mars and assumed I don't reciprocate your feelings?" I responded.

"Do you?" She asked.

And those two words shut me up. How do I answer that? My reply backfired, and I was left cornered. I dug my own trap.

Her questioning eyes are waiting for my cruel answer. But what's the answer really? I'm glued to the same position, with crossed legs and elbows on the table.

I'm scanning for words to say, but I'm utterly speechless.

She leaned back against the cushion of the chair and looked away, scratching her head with her lips firmly pressed together.

"I missed the opportunity, and that's something I have to live with for the rest of my life." Her voice trembled along with her tears.

She wiped her tears with the table napkin. Our meals were cooling down, becoming greasy and soggy.

"I thought I knew you like the back of my hand, but I hadn't paid much attention to the back of my hand. Now that I've checked, I question if it's the same backhand I saw the last time," I shared my perspective.

My voice starts to waver, so I sip on my water while glancing at her, waiting for her unpredictable responses.

"Just give me time to ease the pain," she gasped for air, and my jaw clenched.

I held my chest; I could feel my heart cracking. I know what she means; I won't be speaking to her for a long time.

"I'm not used to not talking to you every day but starting tomorrow I'm going to give it a try," I said, respecting her opinion. I'm on the fence; everything in my life becomes uncertain.

No matter how much I try to be strong, it would still hurt, so I might as well try to accept it stoically.

We finished our cold meals since we disliked wasting food. We usually request doggy bags or ask them to wrap up the food, then we reinvent leftovers at home.

"Did you bring your car?" she asked.

"No, I didn't. Why?"

"Can I drive you home?"

"Yes, of course," I nodded, and she gave me a half-smile.

When we got out of the restaurant, we were promptly met by Wendy, leaning against her car. She looked distressed; her smile looked dull.

My soul was horrified. I had already said yes to Seulgi. I admire Wendy's thoughtfulness, but this predicament sends my anxiety through the roof.

Seulgi gets it and says,

"It's okay. Maybe it's better this way," she said, while we both blinked away our tears. Why does it seem like we're saying goodbye permanently?

"If there were possibilities of Wendy mistreating you, I would not tolerate it," she said teasingly. With tears in our eyes, we still managed to smile.

"I'll see you around," she said, bidding goodbye.

We hugged long and tight, and her extra squeeze assured me that we'd talk again someday. She'll come around.

She waved and nodded at Wendy from afar. Wendy warmly smiled and nodded back.

She turned around and walked in the opposite direction where she parked her car.

I've experienced the depths of hell and back, but it didn't hurt nearly as badly as this one.